And Then All of the Sudden, We Began to Tango
by blue.nails.of.an.angel
Summary: Does Joanne just tango with any random stranger, or does her dance mean something more? It's getting pretty dramaish, but there's still some humor in there. postRENT, MarkJoanne obviously. DISCONTINUED.
1. Joanne

**Okay I made a few minor changes in this chapter, but not much.**

**I made up the title awhile ago and thought it might make a good story. It's pretty short, though.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own RENT**

**tear**

This was wrong, very wrong. Never in my whole life did I consider myself to be like another person. I've always been different, queer, strange. Now who am I? Maureen? No, I'm not Maureen. Just because I happen to…

No, I don't.

I don't.

He's not even that good-looking. You would assume the first man I would ever have feelings for would be anything but a scrawny Jewish boy.

A very strong, brave and committed scrawny Jewish boy.

Stop.

Nothing is going to change over a broken sound system. No, he just wanted to help because he still likes Maureen. Yes, that was it. Only for Maureen. My girlfriend who I love.

Oh God, he's here. He's here in the loft.

Well it _is_ where he lives.

"Hey," he says.

"Hello," I say back quickly – too quickly. Oh no, now he knows and he's gonna-

"Have you seen Collins? He said he was going to stop and visit Angel this morning when we were coming back from the Life and he's not back yet…"

"He's probably still there you insensitive bonehead," Maureen was tells him playfully.

Hey…

"Well, it's been _hours_ since anyone's seen him," he protests.

"Yeah, and he's never taken this long before," I say, backing him up. Oh no, that was way too obvious. "A-although Halloween is coming up, so he might be extra-sad."

Oh, smooth. Extra-sad?

"Oh, you're probably right…" he agrees. "Well I'm gonna go take a shower; Roger said we've got heated water again. You can stay if you want, Roger and Mimi should be getting home soon…" He walks away. He sure does have a fine-

No!

This is getting nowhere. I need to talk to Angel. It's never made sense to me why Collins ever felt the need to talk to a gravestone, but it does now.

But before I go I probably need to go to the bathroom. The loft's _only_ bathroom. Yes, no matter who I might accidentally walk in on, I need to go to the bathroom before I leave. I'll just wait a few seconds and then…

What am I _doing_? Just don't think about it. Just don't…

The water's running in the bathroom.

Oh God.

Stop it! I'm not Maureen. I will not cheat on my girlfriend. I already know how much it hurts. I won't.

I might…

I won't.

I need to talk to Angel, she won't tell anyone.

She _can't _tell anyone.

Walk to the door…

What's this? A scarf…

Hmmm.

No, I'm not taking his scarf.

Why am I reaching out my hand?

Oh, it's so soft…

And not mine. It's not mine. I'm going to leave it here.

Drop it.

And warm, it's very warm.

I should go.

Open the door…

Just go!

The water hasstopped running. Now or never.

Put it back before-

"Pookie? What are you-"

_Slam!_

**The ending's pretty weird, I know.**

**Mostly this story is from experience. Well, not the lesbian part, but liking someone who's "taken". Actually, I'm kind of in that sort of situation now...**

**No, I'm not.**

**See my point?**

**I was thinking of doing a Mark chapter. Yes? No? I might even turn this into a whole story.**

**I love reveiws more than breathing.**


	2. Mark

**I was completely convinced I was done with this story but yesterday I saw the guy I like after a long time so I was inspired.**

**Just to clear things up, this is after RENT, so Angel's dead.**

**I don't own RENT.**

The steps creak familiarly under my feet as I climb to the loft. _Pan left and over the railing to the first floor. _I stop, looking down from the third level and rest on the worn banister. This isn't about her, though, it's about the symbolism of a spiral staircase. Yes, that's all.

God dammit why do I to fall so quickly?

Besides, I haven't fallen anyway.

I'm still on the stairs; they're actually rather private. For the 23rd and a half time today, I've stopped to think. Can't go forward. Can't go back. She - they - could be anywhere, and I'm not quite ready to share feelings right now.

Not that I have any.

I stopped all those times to think today because...because I'm a thinker and that's what we do. Think. Think long and hard about our feelings.

Except these.

These don't even exist, so there's no point in thinking about them. Nothing to examine, nothing to zoom in on.

Nothing.

Might as well continue up the stairs...

_Cut to graffiti close up from 14th street then back again to the flickering lightbulb. Then maybe a stunningly pretty face..._

The handle of the door is cold and metalic and my sweaty hand almost slips off as I pull.

"Pookie? Can you help me with this jar? I think it might still be good..." I hear over the grinding of the door. No! She's here! She's here with Maureen and I have nothing to say! Too late...

What's this? Did she just look at me? Like with an _Oh! He's here!_ instead of an _Oh, he's here._

Do you hear yourself?

"Hey," I say automatically. Keep it cool...

"Hello," she replies. I can see her tounge brush the back of her top teeth for a split second as she forms the "L" sound.

"Have you seen Collins?" Oh yeah, that's why I came here... "He said he was going to visit Angel this morning when we were coming back from the Life and he's not back yet..."

"He's probably still there you insensitive bonehead," Maureen says in the way that used to make me swoon.

Men don't swoon.

"Well it's been _hours_ since anyone's seen him," I say to my ex, a feeling in my gut telling me that if I were to look at who I want to look at, I would say something stupid or turn red.

"Yeah, and he's never taken this long before," Now I have to look at her. It'd be weird if I didn't look at her now, she's talking to me. It'd be weird, right? "A-although Halloween is coming up, so he might be extra-sad."

"Oh, you're probably right..." My face is turning red, I can feel it. I need to get out of here. Think of something. "Well I'm gonna go take a shower; Roger said we've got heated water again. You can stay if you want, Roger and Mimi should be getting home soon…" Perfect. Now go, get out of there.

Maybe I should invite her...

What? You're disgusting!

But what would she say if I _did_ ask her to join me?

Well, Maureen would laugh.

But then what?

Get a hold of yourself. See that soap? Concentrate on that.

Perhaps I should ask Roger about all this. Or Collins. If I just conveniently left out the name...

Because there is no name, no woman, no feelings, no nothing.

No nothing? Isn't that a double negative or something? Doesn't it cancel itself out and mean something instead of nothing?

Dammit, stop confusing yourself.

Still, I could ask one of them about this. What would they say?

Nothing, because there's nothing to ask about.

Remember the soap?

Okay, after I'm done with my shower, I'll go out and have a casual friend-to-friend conversation with her. I'll prove to myself that there is nothing there.

Nothing.

Was that the door opening? I'm fairly sure it was. Is she going?

Deep breaths, man.

Turn off the water. You're done.

Get out there before she leaves. Quick!

"Pookie? What are you-"

_Slam!_

**WOOT!**

**Okay, this story is pretty different, huh?**

**I'm sorry if some things are spelled wrong. My MicrosoftWord isn't working so I had to do all of this on Notepad.**

**If you feel the need for an inspiring Angel fic, read _We'll Cover You_ by one of my bestest buddies, TheFelineOfAveB.**

**Reveiws are my favoritest things in the world.**


	3. Joanne's Voices of an Angel

**Okay I was going to do another "Game" chapter but I don't own the game Joanne (yes, she's next) is bringing, so I'm updating here. I also had MUCHO GRANDE writer's block, but, for some reason, gum tends to cure it, so I wrote this. It's still pretty short, though.**

**I bought Anthony Rapp's _Without You _today. There's an itty bitty reference in here.I bet mostpeople won't find it. BonusPoints, though, if you can tell me what the song's called.**

**I don'town RENT. Or emotion.**

Where am I going? What am I doing? I'm running down the stairs, hearing Maureen on the level above me.

I have to go.

He's probably out of the shower by now. Dressed, too. Chasing Maureen and me down the stairs, confused. That's his voice.

"Where're you going?" he shouts as the weak October sunlight reaches my eyes. I squint and keep running until his beautiful voice is only an echo in my ears. I walk, catching my breath.

My heart is pounding in my ears. I can't think straight.

This isn't really happening. That fabric in my hands that carries his scent is not really there.

I clutch the striped scarf to my chest. What? Striped scarf? That's not mine! That's...

I'm losing my mind.

This is much too much for me. I need to do _something_. I subconsiously turn, headed for the cemetary. Somehow, my feet seem to know me better than I do.

"Yes, we'll talk to Angel..." I say.

I _am _losing my mind. Talking to your shoes?

Positive thinking...

It's probably just a phase, like little girls and horses. In a few days I'll be hopelessly in love with Maureen again. Maureen - I love her to death. I love her I love her I love...

him.

Soon I'm in front of Angel's gravestone. "Hey," I whisper. What now? This really seems stupid. Suddenly, Angel's warm face is in my head, smiling that smile. The wind brushes past my ears, _Hey, Honey. Something wrong? _

"Yes..." I manage, closing my eyes to see my friend clearer, forgetting how peculiar I must look. She only smiles again. _Tell me. _

Her softvoice unclamps something in my heart and my words come as I think them. "It's...Mark. I...I think I...love him." I say, so soft I can barely hear myself. I don't want them to be, but I know my words are true. In her eyes is a look of knowing, she's been watching us closely. _What's wrong, then? _

My brain tries to tell my mouth to form my words but they don't seem be working. "I...can't...Maureen...I'm not..." She nods her head. _It's alright. You can love him._

"Yes...I...suppose I can..." I say without thinking. "But Maureen..." _She'll be okay... _Her words sound so wrong but I somehow believe them.

"I love her but..." I expect her to interrupt me, but she only looks at my face, listening. "...I love him more." She smiles and nods as I open my eyes and look at the sky. "I love him." I whisper to myself, wrapping his scarf around my neck.In the distance I can hear traffic, sirens, bycycles. "I love him." I say louder, stronger. The bycycle is getting close. "I love him!" I finally shout.

Behind me there is a screech of rubber tires and dead silence.

**I'm not going to do another Mark chapter where he sees exactly the same thing, but it's going to be happening at the same time Joanne's "realization" is. I really like my ending to this chapter and it won't work if Mark's chapter isn't going on while Joanne's is.**

**Um, if you don't know. The bycycle is Mark's. He's riding his bike, kay? That part's kinda important.**

**Reveiws keep me alive!**


	4. Mark's Pains of a Friend

**ARRGH! My MicrosoftWord is broken, and I don't have any other methods of writing (not even Notepad, I'm a mess) so I have to write directly on the internet. I wrote this entire chapter and my computer was DISCONNECTED! DO YOU KNOW HOW MAD THAT MAKES ME?**

**Anyway, the last chapter was really bugging me because it was so short. I kept thinking about it and I finally wrote this.**

**I don't own RENT.**

Maureen is yelling. Loudly.

I don't know what to think or do; my head is spinning. I now understand what is like forpeople to try to describe love in books and movies and poems. I could say it's like walking on a cloud or the first bloom of spring, but that's a load of crap.

I hear Maureen start down the stairs and I throw on my clothes to go after her. I only see Maureen below me, but I shout out to her girlfriend anyway. "Where are you going?" Yes, very macho.

I can't catch her, she's too fast. I need my bike. When I get to the loft, I look out the window to see her headed for the cemetary.

Of corse, girl talk.

Did this bike get heavier? I can't see the steps below me; I just know I'm going to stumble and fall. Maureen is waiting at the bottom. "Now where are you-?"

I push past her and slam the door in her face.

Concentrate on the pedals, now, keep moving forward. Do I really want to see her now? Would it really make this any easier? I find myself taking the long way to the cemetary.

I'm riding through the park, watching the trees shoot past me. I hear the steady rythm of the chain and tires on my bike. I close my eyes and listen until something throws off the beat. I stop. Somewhere closeby there is a hacking cough. I turn toward the sound and see a figure leaning on a tree. It couldn't be-

"Collins!" I say, running towards him. "Oh shit, what happened?"

He moans helplessly, slouching over.

"Oh my God, you need help," I breathe, shaking.

"No," he says weakly, grabbing my sleeve. "I...fine...walking...fell..."

"You're not fine." I say firmly, "Tell me what happened,"

His eyelids droop, fighting unconsiousness. Slowly, very slowly, he moves his hand away from his stomach where I didn't notice it had been. His shirt and coat are soaked with blood.

"Oh my God," I say again, "Collins, you need a hospital!" My mind is racing, there is nothing I can do. If I stay here, I won't be able to find help. If I leave, he might not be here when I get back. No, that won't happen. That _can't_happen. "I'm going for help," I hear myself telling him, his eyes trying to stay open. "Stay here and _hold on._"

What now? There's no one else nearby, except...

I hop on my bike and speed toward Angel's grave. What do I say? How do I explain this?

She's there, beautiful as ever. I'm too shaken by what I've seen to push my feelings for her out of my mind. I ride up behind her, about to shout her name...

She's saying something...

"I love him!" she shouts.

My tires screech to a stop as I realize that I've pulled the break.

**This story is starting to frusterate me, I can't seem to be able to make these chapters not be rushed!**

**I'm pretty sure Collins _isn't _going to die, you guys.**

**You know what sucks? Having 600+ hits and 23 reveiws.**


	5. Saved

**This chapter is really short. I'm sorry, but I don't know what to do with Collins. I have an idea but it's pretty drama-ish, and this started out as a Humor/Romance fic. I went ahead and changed the genre to Drama just to be safe. Oh, and I split the narraration on this one because I planned for it to be the last chapter but, obviously, it isn't. So, in conclusion, I don't own RENT.**

The silence is uncomfortable and inescapeable. Mark stands in front of me, his face unreadable. Does he know who I was talking about?

"I was...just..." I begin, guesturing lamely to Angel's grave. What do I say?

"No," he says, which startles me. He notices. "I mean," he continues, flustered. "I mean we don't have time. Collins..."

"What's wrong?" No... Collins _couldn't_...

"I don't know what to do," he says helplessly. "I found him...he's bleeding..."

"Oh my God," How could this have happened? This is my fault. I should've helped him look earlier. "Where is he?"

"Over on the other side," he says. Then he looks at me. "What are we going to do?"

"You have to go back and make sure he's okay. Just tell him I'm getting help. Don't touch his blood if you can help it." He turns to get on his bike. "Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

.o.o.o.

I have to stay calm. Joanne is getting help. All I have to do is stay with Collins and keep him consious.

The wind is whipping my face at an alarming rate. My legs are numb from pedaling so fast. There he is. Good, he's still sitting up.

"Collins," I say calmly, dropping my bike and running over to him, "Joanne is getting help. You're gonna be fine." Can he even hear me? "Collins?" I say a bit louder.

"Mark," he says, a bit stronger than before, but still breathy, "I'm fine. All they're gonna do is patch me up and send me home."

"You lost a lot of blood, man, that can't be good."

"No shit. It's not good,"

"Oh..." But I'm still worried. "What exactly happened?"

"I told you," he says, trying to sit up straighter, "I fell."

"All this blood can't come from one fall."

But the amblulance's sirens interrupt our conversation. What happened that he didn't want us to know? I can't think about that right now, though, because they're loading him into the ambulance.

"What's his name?" one of the paramedics asks me, but Collins is the one who answers.

"Tom Collins," he says, wincing as two other men lift him onto the backboard. They carry the backboard to the ambulance and put him inside. I step forward to climb inside with him but the paramedic puts a hand on my shoulder and roughly holds me back.

"Family only,"

"He's my brother," Collins says from inside the truck.

"Yeah, can't you see the family resemblence?"

**And I don't own Remember the Titans either; that's where that last line came from.**

**Speaking of references, did anyone ever figure out what my Without You reference was? Well, it was the part when Joanne was talking about little girls and horses. In NYTW (New York Theatre Workshop) version, Mark sings a song to Maureencalled "You'll Get Over It" in which he tries to convince her that being a lesbian is just a phase, "Like little girls and horses." Get it? Anthony talks about it in the book.**

**So anyway, that's pretty much it. I would say that I'm 100 sure the next chapter will be the last, but I'm not.**

**Reveiws make me melt like a popsicle on the 4th of July. (and I don't own Little Rascals)**


	6. My Apologies

**I'm really really sorry, but this story has been hereby discontinued. I have no absolute clue where to go with it (well, actually I do, but it's very drama-ish and I don't think I'm good enough to write drama yet). My original plan was that Collins was trying to commit suicide, but I've tried to write that chapter so many times that my computer might blow up out of its own frustration with me. If you want, you can message me and write it yourself, or there's a very slight chance that I might continue this someday, but not right now.**

**P.S. But no, _Just Play the Game,_ is NOT discontinued. I have tons of ideas for the game Joanne brings, but I don't own that particular game so I'll have to borrow it and its proving very difficult because not many people still have the original version. Thanks to L. M. Ward who suggested Monopoly for Joanne and gave me the idea for the game she's bringing. (If Benny ever shows up, he'll have Monopoly, its so fitting.)**


End file.
